Sun, 14 Mar 2004

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27.5

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Yesterday, I turned 27-1/2. I don't know why I make such a big deal about this mid-way point, considering that I'm starting to not like counting birthdays, but I suppose it's due time to step back and reflect a bit. It's time to take the long-view, appreciate the big picture. That sort of thing.

With my destiny beginning to unfold as of tomorrow (which is, disturbingly, the Ides of March), and knowing that this time next week I will know the physical location where I'm headed, I am kind of starting to freak out. (I was going to say that by this time next week I'll know where I'll be heading, but this is only partly true. Because, as I seem to be telling people a lot these days, nothing is ever guaranteed. Even when you know, there's still a lot more you don't know. Because of my fear of uncertainty, I've tried to embrace it, though I don't know if I'm succeeding.)

Yesterday, I spent the entire day finishing my month-long endeavor of sorting through all my high school and college crap that I've left behind at my parents' house. I can now see the ground. (Hallelujah!)

Obviously, such an endeavor took me down Memory Lane quite a bit. The one thing that struck me the most is how absolutely numb I feel.

I think the only emotion that I've been able to feel lately is anger. Anger at my unethical, narcissistic, and somewhat schizotypal roommate. Anger at the racism and classism that corrupts the U.S., and the incompetence and outright dishonesty of W's administration. Anger at the years I've wasted in deep, dark depression, going down the wrong roads, looking for the wrong things, when what I needed was so much simpler. Anger at the wounds that I've sustained, and anger at the fact that I can't stop reopening them.

If it's not anger, then it's depression, and exactly for the same reasons. (It's like I'm on some abbreviated course of the Kubler-Ross continuum, except that, as usual, it never, ever, seems to end.) I guess I've gotten too used to all this rottenness and realize that both denial and bargaining are completely futile and utterly stupid. The locomotive called Fate has no brakes, and if it's gonna run you over, it's gonna run you over. The most you can do is wait with both your eyes open.

How wonderfully fatalistic.

But this isn't like the last time I held a vigil, awaiting my figurative doom. Instead of a possible brick wall or 20,000 foot cliff, what I'm approaching is a massive branching of paths. If you're an Angeleno, you'll understand the simile that I'm going to use: it's like the East L.A. interchange, where the Golden State, Santa Ana, Pomona, San Bernardino, and Santa Monica Freeways all split-off. Obviously, you can only choose one way at a time—going down one path, you essentially eschew the others. And if you have no idea where you're ultimately supposed to go, because you obviously can't stop in the middle of the freeway, you'll still end up on one of these routes, and you won't be able to change your decision until you've traveled a few miles.

OK, if this simile makes no sense to you, skip the next few paragraphs (or maybe, skip the rest of this entry—in more ways than one, I have no idea where I'm going)

The thing is, if you pick one freeway and realize you made a mistake, you can't just get off the freeway and backtrack. You have to really know where you want to end up, and you have to know how the interchange works, so that you can figure out how to get back to where you were supposed to go. Because it's L.A., you can always get anywhere from anywhere, it just might take you a few more interchanges than you anticipated.

For example, let's say you're heading northbound on the Santa Ana Freeway (I-5), and you need to get on the Golden State Freeway (which is also I-5, but is, in reality, an entirely different structure, requiring you to take a distributor ramp.) However, you make the mistake of staying in the left lanes, and end up continuing up the Santa Ana (which becomes US-101.) Now, if you get off the first exit (which is, I believe, 4th St.), there's no way to get onto the southbound 101. (Although, if you're familiar with the area, you can actually easily correct yourself by heading down 4th St. a little bit and finding the onramp to the northbound Golden State.) And even if you could get back on the southbound 101, there's no direct ramp to get from the southbound 101 to the northbound 5 (Golden State Freeway). So (assuming that you aren't familiar with the area and didn't get on the Golden State via 4th St.) what you're forced to do is pass through Downtown L.A., take the Pasadena Freeway, then make sure you get in the left lane and catch the Golden State. And then, let's say that you don't realize that there's only one lane feeding into the Golden State, and you end up careening past the distributor ramp, panic, and try to exit at Figueroa. From here, there is essentially no direct way of getting back on any freeway.

Long story short, there are ways to get back to where you're supposed to be after making a wrong turn, it's just that you have to be clever and observant and have a good sense of direction, and it's never as simple as going back and fixing what you did wrong. And if you make too many wrong turns, you might find yourself stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no apparent way back to where you're supposed to be (although, in life, just like in L.A., you can always find a way to get somewhere from whereever the freeway unceremoniously tosses you off onto the surface streets.)

So I suppose there's no reason why I should be apprehensive. Even if I end up going down the wrong path, I suppose I can always get to where I'm supposed to get to. I guess that's what's freaking me out. Life (again, like L.A.) becomes very unkind if you have no idea where you want to go, and you can't exactly try to figure it out as you're driving at 70 mph (especially since the speed limit on the freeways through downtown is 55 mph, and at some points, 45 mph.)

So anyway. I dreamt the other night that I matched in Miami, which is actually 5th on my rank list. While I liked the program, I've come to realize that I'd rather be somewhere where I know people. I don't know if it's because I'm getting old, or what, but the prospect of moving to yet another part of the country, to start over and make new friends, just makes utterly, utterly tired. So I suppose I'd rather match somewhere like L.A., NYC, or even Chicago (except for the damned weather—while it's 40°F in Chi-town right now, thanks to the wind, it feels like 30&def;. In NYC, it's 38°. In contrast, in Miami, it's 76°. In L.A., it's 72°.)

I actually ended up ranking UCSD at the top, and I'm wondering if this was a good idea now. While I love the weather out there, and I've been curious about San Diego ever since I was a senior in high school, and while I'm familiar with it because my sister went to undergrad down there, and I have a couple of 3rd degree cousins out there, and it's only about a 2 hour drive back to L.A. (if there isn't that much traffic, which is almost never), I don't know if that's where I should be. Not that I'd actually see people any more often if I did match somewhere in L.A. So I suppose it doesn't really matter between the four Southern California programs I ranked.

Still, given that it is mid-March, and winter is technically supposed to end in a little more than a week, I think it would drive me insane if I had to spend another March in weather that's just barely above freezing. Given that last week, it was hovering around 90° here in L.A., I no longer have the visceral revulsion of sub-50° weather, but thinking about it is wearying.

Anyway, I'm rambling on and on. I guess I'm just getting older. I used to have more philosophical and portentious ramblings [25][25.5][26+1d][26+12d][26.5][26.5-1d][27@0135-06][27@0944-06][27+1d], but most of my concerns are kind of mundane these days.

Numb is better than suicidal, I guess.

12:21:17 14 Mar 2004 > /soul > permalink > 1 comments

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Name/Blog: Taty
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Comment/Excerpt: ομάδα του galaxiako.blogspot.com : doknrosis, anarxos, antromeda, kiklonas, anarxosimoritisΥΓ Εάν κάποιος (οποιοσδήποτε) θέλει το ονοματεπώνυμο μας θα το δώσουμε με το e-mail. Δεν υπάρχει πρόβλημα και μάλιστα χωρίς να ζητήσουμε το δικό του για να μην υπάρχουν αμφιβολίες.galaxiako.blogspot.com 27/02/2011

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